her last hour? No—she could not have done it. But ought she to have taken her anger against him into eternity, and complained about him to the Almighty, when she knew the fault was not really his, but his first wife’s, who had spoilt his character?
Vendulka was trembling with cold and with the mental agony through which she was passing; and added to this was the fear that perhaps the worst was still to come, and a horde of police and watchmen would suddenly fall upon her and drag her off to prison.
‘Well, how do you like smuggling?’ her aunt asked with a sly smile, when they emerged from the woods and turned towards ‘the firs.’
‘Very much,’ Vendulka hastily assured her with chattering teeth. ***** Lukas with his dancers returned to the inn at the head of the band, and whoever had good lungs and sound legs in the village accompanied him, to make merry at his expense, and dance to their heart’s content.
He had made up his mind to mete out exemplary punishment to Vendulka that night by making a general feast for his comrades and all the merry girls who were no prudes
